Island

On a recent trip to the North Fork just before Orient, I noticed this island floating in the Long Island Sound. Since I've been surrounded by water here on the East End for the last 20+ years, it takes something remarkable for me to shoot an image like this these days.

Amidst all the development taking place here, I was struck by the emptiness of this stretch of sea, sand and sky. It seemed that this could be an island floating almost anywhere in the world; in the Caribbean, the Mediterranean or even off the coast of Africa or in the South Pacific---although the sea might not be as calm. And because it's reminiscent of a simpler time, I transferred it to black and white with a hint of amber for nostalia...
For a poetic rendition of this image, visit Recovery Thru My Lens!

Catch

Sunny and in the sixties, I donned my sunhat, grabbed my camera, and headed for the beach. Although I live just five minutes away, I hadn't been there since December.
Upon arriving, I marched downed to the shoreline aiming my lens at the surf. But the waves themselves failed to hold my interest. As the whitecaps moved in and out, my eye gravitated to the impressions left on the sand just as the water receded.
Then I started to see things, shapes that looked like fish stenciled in the sand. The more I looked the more I found. Schools of fish one after the other. Incredulous, I snapped away zooming in and out. I had to work fast since they dried and disappeared as quickly as I spotted them.
Once I was fairly certain I'd caught something worth writing about, I stored my camera in the bag slung over my shoulder and moseyed down the beach enjoying the long-awaited sun. About ten minutes later, however, I happened upon the most remarkable catch of all. So I reached back in and captured this.